Flight
by Bear-Bell
Summary: After Janie leaves for college, no one's there to distract Trent from the truth. When he realizes that there's nothing left for him in Lawndale, Trent follows his sister to Boston.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- I don't own Daira.**

Trent woke up mid morning, as he always did. Then, like most other mornings, he rolled over, pressed his face into the sheets, and he simply lay there. An hour latter, he experienced an epiphany. If anyone were to see him, they wouldn't tell that his life had just turned on its side; he had moved maybe an inch since he'd initially woken up.

Despite his inactivity, Trent's mind was moving a million miles an hour, as it always did when he was quite and still. On this morning, his mind was racing with the realization that he was unhappy.

Trent wondered what had happened. He wasn't exactly content with his lot in life, and he'd always had a generally negative outlook of the world, but this feeling of dissatisfaction had never been so acutely understood before.

_Janie's_ _gone_, he immediately thought. What was he supposed to do without her? She took care of him just as much as he took care of her. He didn't really need for her to take care of him, but Trent liked that someone needed, and what was he supposed to take care of if she wasn't around? Trent didn't want to take care of his mother, and he didn't like any of his band mates enough to take care of them.

_The band_, Trent's mind groaned at him. They weren't going anywhere. Trent was getting tired of the music. Nick was a sub-par base player to begin with, but he'd stopped trying to improve his skill, and his lack of knowledge was beginning to hinder their music. Trent was getting tired of sharing his lyrics with Jesse. Trent was finally becoming comfortable with his ability to compose, but now he felt that Jesse's input was compromising the true potential of his songs. Then, Max was talking about moving to Tennessee with his brother, so they'd have to find a new drummer when they really needed to find a new base player. The drama and stifled creativity was wearing Trent thin.

As if Jane's absence and the band's inevitable break-up wasn't enough to ponder, Trent's fast thinking brain suddenly supplied him with a third reason to be unhappy:_ The house_. An uncomfortable cycle of over-crowded chaos and still emptiness had settled into place. One week, the family or the band or family friends would invade the house. A week latter, the house would be abandoned by all except for Trent and maybe his mother, if he was lucky. The crowded house was exhausting, but the empty house left Trent lonely.

Trent was tired of it. He wanted something bigger than Mystik Spiral, he wanted something more than Lawndale, and he wanted his sister.

That morning, Trent realized it was time to leave.

**Annoying Note- Well, there's the introduction. I hope it sounds interesting so far. Really, I got inspired after watching Road Warrior. I wondered what Trent would do if he decided he wanted to do something else. Thus.**

**This story might seem a little strange at times. I just read Mrs. Dalloway, and so I've discovered stream of consciousness. As a result, I've started experimenting with my writing a little, getting away from traditional writing styles. I'll only apologize for subjecting you to my "new" writing before I've really figured it out.  
**

**Review please!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - Okay! Here's the REAL beginning of the story, since the last chapter was more like a lame, tiny introduction. FYI, this IS a romance, but the first few chapters are just going to be Trent, Jane, and Daria settling into the story. Hang tight, though, it's on the way!**

"Hey," Trent greeted. "Can I stay with you?"

Jane didn't immediately react. Instead, her eyebrows slowly rose to illustrate her disbelief. "Trent?" she asked. "How do you know where I live?"

Trent shrugged, slightly dislodging the large duffle bag from his shoulder. "Your ex-dorm mate pointed me in the right direction." Trent took his guitar from the floor and gently pushed past his sister and into the dinky little apartment.

"Whoa," Trent said, impressed by the number of painted canvases in the room. "You've been working hard, huh?"

"Nah," Jane answered, closing the door behind her brother. "Don't be fooled by the intricate patterns and expert blending of colors. Really, I was only flinging paint around."

Trent smiled because he knew how far from the truth that statement was.

"So what's up?" Jane asked. "Did the house burn down or something?"

Trent shook his head as he threw his bags on the floor and gently placed his guitar near a paint splattered wall. "I had to get out of Lawndale," he said simply.

"So then what? You're taking a sabbatical in Boston?" Jane pressed.

To demonstrate the seriousness of the situation, Trent told Jane,"I quit Mystik Spiral," as he pushed some paintbrushes off the couch and sat down. He stretched his legs in front of him and looked to Janie.

Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide. Trent leaned into the couch and waited for his sister to process his statement. Finally, the shock melted away and Jane grinned. "I can't wait to tell Daria!"

"Oh yeah, Daria," Trent mumbled as he remembered Jane's friend. Daria was in Boston as well, wasn't she?

"So this is pretty great! I've been looking for a roomy," Jane declared. "You can help me pay the rent!"

"Rent," Trent groaned, sliding down on the couch. While driving to Boston, he'd considered the possibility of having responsibilities, but he hadn't thought that Janie would jump on him so quickly. "Job," he sighed.

Jane cackled at the idea of Trent seeking employment.

Jane moved to help Trent take his things into the second bedroom, which Jane was currently using as a studio. There was no bed, and there wouldn't be room for a bed until Jane found somewhere else to store her art supplies and junk-yard still-lifes.

"Why'd you move out of your dorm?" Trent asked as he went to the hall closet and found some blankets for the couch.

"My roommate was driving me crazy," Jane answered. "She was cool, but she's majoring in multimedia. She could be a little neurotic while producing her clay animation, and the _music_…"

"Music?" Trent asked.

"I guess music isn't the right word," Jane conceded. "It sounded like she was creating a soundtrack to accompany the death of a small cute animal. She used a keyboard, so the animal's death was loud and very synthetic. There are classrooms designed for work like that, far away from the dorms, but she insisted-"

Jane's explanation was cut short by a ringing phone.

"Can you tell where that's coming from?" Jane asked her brother.

"Kitchen?" Trent guessed, motioning to the small kitchenette towards the back of the apartment.

Jane found the phone in the refrigerator, and she flinched at its temperature as she held it to her ear.

"Yo," she called into the phone. "Oh, hey! Are you free tonight?... Yes, well as fun as that sounds, I think you should come by the apartment, instead… I'll order some pizza, we can get a movie… No! No! It'll totally be worth it, I promise…" Jane sighed. "_Yes_, I threw out the spiders. They're gone, okay? So get your little butt over here. See ya."

Trent's eyebrows rose. "Who's little butt are you interested in?" he asked. He knew Jane was popular with the guys, but he'd never seen her get excited over booty before.

Jane grinned as she said, "Daria's."

Trent recognized his sister's grin and decided that whatever story she was about to tell was especially humiliating.

"At the beginning of the semester, her dorm had a get-to-know-you party disguised as a sleep-over, and Daria enlisted my help with an escape plan. So I show up at the appointed time, ready to rush in there with a story about her dying sister, and I find a bunch of girls crowding Daria, all of them in their underwear."

Trent liked this story.

"They were admonishing Daria for wearing such unflattering cloths and hiding her cute little butt. You should have seen the way her rash flared!"

"I wonder how they would have gone on to torture her if you hadn't been there to get her out," Trent pondered absently, his mind still fixed on the idea of a dorm full of scantly dressed college girls.

"Who said anything about getting her out?" Jane asked. "I dug out the medication for her rash then stayed the night."

"You stayed for the slumber party?" Trent asked, surprised.

"Hey, those Raft girls know how to throw a party. There was junk food, Sick Sad World, Daria humiliation, and I got to help tag cars in the dorm's parking lot. Hey, what do you want on your pie?"

"Mushrooms," Trent answered easily. It was difficult to imagine his sister and Daria having fun with a bunch of people their own age. And not just a bunch of people, a bunch of girls. Maybe there really was something to say about getting away from Lawndale.

Jane had the pizza place's phone number on instant dial, and they knew her name. While Janie ordered the pizzas, Trent leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. As always, his mind began to race when he cut himself off from visual stimulation.

Trent wondered how long it would take him to grow accustomed to Boston. Unlike Lawndale, Boston was old, and big, and busy. He'd been a little intimidated as he drove into the city. He was glad he didn't have to sleep on the floor in Janie's dorm. He'd only gotten a glance of the room while looking for his sister, and that place was _tiny_, even smaller than the closet Max slept in. Besides, if Trent had to sleep in a dorm, he'd prefer to stay with Daria, where they had sleepovers and ran around in their underwear.

"Trent?"

Trent's eyes opened and he turned to stair at Daria, who was standing in the open door. Trent wondered how long it had been since he'd closed his eyes. He saw that the pizza had come. Janie had already opened a box and was digging in.

"Yeah, I found him on my stoop and decided to take him in," Jane told Daria as she came into the apartment. "He's a little mangy, and he'll need some shots, but he isn't rabid yet so I think it will be okay."

"What are you doing here, Trent?" Daria asked, throwing her backpack under the dining table and going for the pizza.

"He quit Mystik Spiral," Jane told Daria.

"Hey, bring me a slice of the mushroom," Trent demanded.

Daria fixed Trent a plate and brought it to him, then sat on the coffee table across from him. "So what's going on?" she asked.

Trent shrugged as he took a bite of his pizza.

"So you're not in trouble or anything?" Daria pressed.

"Trouble?" Trent asked.

"Yeah. I mean… Did you really leave Mystik Spiral?"

Trent nodded. "We weren't going anywhere. Not together, anyways."

"He's moving into my studio!" Jane announced.

"I guess you have to do something with all of those unsold paintings. Building a bed for your brother sounds as good as anything else you could do with them," Daria mumbled.

"Hey! Don't disrespect the canvas!" Jane called.

Daria rolled her eyes, but Trent could tell she wasn't really paying attention to Jane. Her eyes were still on him.

Trent had missed this. He'd missed the late night pizza, he'd missed the smell of paint, he missed the colorful clutter. Listening to Jane's and Daria's easy banter was like resurfacing after spending too much time underwater. For the first time in months, Trent's head felt clear, and his attention was focused. _He'd missed this_. Jane wasn't a big girl, but her presence filled the room. And even Daria's cool, calm gaze across from him was soothing. Her _worry_ was soothing.

When he was finished with his pizza, Trent leaned back into the couch and he closed his eyes. His mind raced, as usual, but it raced along beside Jane and Daria's quick banter.

* * *

Daria stayed the night. She crashed with Janie in the bedroom. Trent lay on the cleared couch and stared across the dark room. The space was unfamiliar, and he was having trouble settling down. The air was cooler than the air in Lawndale, and he thought it felt dryer. He could hear noise from the city, where he was used to absolute quiet. The couch was shorter and narrower than the couch in the Lane's living room. The strangeness made him uncomfortable. But then, he heard Jane's faint voice and Daria's low, even retort. The apartment walls contorted their voices. The sheet rock here was thinner than the walls in the Lawndale house. But it didn't change the utter familiarity of their voices. Trent couldn't hear their words, but he recognized their tones. Jane's voice was especially sharp, and it was lowered an octave. She was making fun of Daria. Daria's reply was as even as always, but a small hitch in her delivery let Trent know that she was threatening Janie with bodily harm. Those familiar sounds were all he needed to fall asleep.

**Annoying Note- BAM! There you go. Tell me what you think, please! Next chapter, Trent gets a job!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - And the story continues!**

Trent's room was tiny. Janie gave him shit for getting a double bed instead of a twin, but Trent needed his space, even if that meant that none of his possessions would have space. He had to keep his guitar under the bed, and he managed to fit everything else in the closet.

One morning, after Trent had been settled in with his sister for a few days, Jane woke her brother up and kicked him out of the apartment.

"I have class until two," she told Trent as she locked the apartment's door behind them. "That should be plenty of time for you to find a job."

At the street, Trent waved goodbye to his sister, then started for Pulsie Ave. Pulsie was the neighborhood's main street, and it was about four times greater than Dega St. Trent had only gone there once, with Janie, and they had only explored two blocks, but Trent knew he would be comfortable there. Already, he'd counted more music stores and bars along those two blocks than there were in all of Lawndale.

It was November in Boston, and Trent was in luck. The shops were preparing for the holidays, and Trent found a job in a combination music/bookstore.

The owner and manager, Curley Joyce, was happy to hire Trent. Curley was usually pretty careful about who he hired. He didn't like college kids because they had too many conflicting interests, such as the month long Christmas holidays and three months for the summer holidays. However, Curley's usual employment candidates were a little old and out of touch with the current youth culture. Curley didn't truly think that Trent would be a hard or diligent worker, but he already had the employees to do work. Curley really needed someone to help him figure out what the heck to sell. Their shop was located in a busy market area, and the neighborhood was prominently college age. Trends were coming and going so quickly that Curley only had to blink before a sales opportunity had passed them by. What the shop _really_ needed was something a bit more… preemptive. They needed the merchandise in the store before a trend became big. They needed to _make_ the trend big.

Trent didn't know about Curley's expectations, though. He thought he would only have to restock the shelves and work the cash register.

* * *

Jane was proud of her brother, even if he had managed to land himself a job in the lamest music/bookstore on Pulsie Ave.

"Bobby Books and Music, huh?" she asked as the two made their way into a Chinese restaurant for lunch. "They saw your tattoos and didn't even do a background check on you first?"

"That reminds me. Can I borrow some money? Curley said I have to cover my arms while I'm working. There are a bunch of old stiffs working there, Janie."

"I know," she said lowly. She'd made the mistake of going into the store only once.

"And they're running the background check before my second interview. I'm not worried, though. It's been a long time since high school, and I won't have to do any driving for the job so they won't care about all those moving violations."

Janie thought her brother's confidence was endearing, if a little undeserved.

Trent had reason to be confident, though. Curley had scheduled the second interview for the next day and planned to have Trent working the day after that. Trent figured that as long as he could buy a long-sleeve shirt to cover his tattoos and show up on time to the interview, the job would be his and he'd be able to help Janie pay rent on her apartment.

"So have you met Bobby?" Daria asked that evening when she came over to the apartment and heard the news.

"No," Trent said with a grin. "I thought I'd be meeting a guy named Bobby, too, but it turns out that Curley named the place after the blue-footed bobby. There's a bird on the logo."

"Is that some sort of literary reference?" Jane asked, looking at Daira.

"No," she answered flatly.

"A music reference, then?" Jane asked Trent, grasping for some sort of connection.

"I think the guy just likes birds," Trent told Janie. "He had a bunch of nice paintings of birds in his office."

"How uninspired," Jane huffed. "Hey Trent, show Daria your new wardrobe." As Trent reached for the shopping bag which he'd thrown by the end of the couch that afternoon, Jane told Daria, "They're considering him for an employee, but only if he covers his tattoos."

Trent tipped the bag over, spilling his purchases across the coffee table and onto the floor.

"I can see you went all out," Daria said, truly unimpressed by Trent's collection of long-sleeved button-up shirts. For a moment, Trent was somewhat insulted. He'd never spent money on clothing in his life, and he worked hard to let people know that without actually telling them as much. He thought Daria would understand what this meant: Trent was conforming for society so that he could get a job and pay rent to some fat cat who made all his money off of renting out bad properties for more than they were worth.

Trent's irritation died away when Jane put the situation into perspective.

"Yeah, I guess that five or six cheep shirts wouldn't mean much to you," his sister told Daria, "after you've seen Miss Marie buy enough to clothe every teenager in the Central African Republic."

"Well _someone_ has to have all those clothes, and you know those kids in Central Africa wouldn't appreciate the quality of fabric and they wouldn't properly coordinate the colors anyways."

Trent understood the reference to Daria's sister well. He didn't think her name was Marie, though…

Finally, Trent decided that he _wasn't_ selling out if Daria was so unconcerned about his wardrobe. And there were worse ways to conform than buying long-sleeved shirts. No one had asked Trent to completely remove his tattoos, only cover them up. And Boston _was_ pretty cold. Trent would have been forced to buy a warmer wardrobe before Christmas.

"So do we get a family discount?" Janie asked when the conversation returned to Trent's new employment. Trent was surprised at how interested Janie and Daria were in his the job. He didn't think it was _that_ strange.

"Sure," Trent finally answered. After all, _he_ wouldn't be buying anything from Bobby's, and his discount needed to be exercised.

"Daria's looking for a job," Janie suddenly declared. "Maybe you could give her a good word."

Daria shook her head. "Too little too late, Jane. I've found employment," she informed the siblings. "I'm going to be a section editor for the school magazine."

"Ooh, starting your foray into literature," Jane said, "Congrats, Amiga."

"Yeah, cool," Trent agreed, even though he couldn't imagine wanting a job like that. He'd gotten tired of editing Jessie's lyrics, and that guy's songs weren't exactly deep or complicated, and they definitely weren't at the college level of thought.

Jane began shaking her head, looking between her best friend and her brother. "And to think, I always assumed that Trent would never contribute and Daria would only destroy and never create. This calls for a celebration, I think. Let's _go out_ to eat pizza tonight."

"I don't know," Daria said, even as she stood. "I think we should hold off a celebration of this magnitude for the day when Jane opens her first show."

"Nah," Trent said. "I feel like going out for the night. We can get Janie a hot dog or something for her opening night."

"Agreed," Daria nodded.

* * *

"_Trent_!"

"It'll be done in five minuets!" Trent automatically answered as he jerked upright.

"You said that an _hour_ ago, before you fell asleep, _again_!"

Lorie's voice was shrill, and it made Trent's skin crawl. He'd slumped over the desk and closed his eyes to block out the sound as she spoke to customers while ringing up their purchases. She said the same words to each person, greeting them, pointing out Bobby's Book Special, asking if they had a member's card, asking debit or credit, then wishing them a happy afternoon. She greeted them, pointed out Bobby's Book Special, asked for their member's card, was that debit or credit, then she said good-bye. Greeting, Bobby's Book Special, member's card, debit or credit, have a good afternoon, over and over and over and _over_. Then, every now and again, she'd meet a chatty customer or a familiar customer, and Trent was happy to hear her verge away from her little spiel. However, his relief was short lived because when Lorie chatted with a customer, her voice became overly cheery and loud. The louder her voice got, the shriller it became.

Her voice was even shriller when she was speaking directly to Trent.

"I'll finish this in the back," Trent grumbled as he stood and took his project to the back of the store. As soon as he was comfortable in the employee's closet, though, Curley was rushing him back onto the sales floor.

"Help the customers!" he demanded.

Trent stood near the "Best Sellers" display, unsure of what to do. The store was pretty strait forward. Books were listed by the author's last name, and then by title. Likewise, music was arranged alphabetically by artist. It _wasn't complicated_.

Still, when a woman walked near him, Trent said, "Hey. You. Do you need help?"

The middle aged woman blinked at him and fidgeted with her overly-large purse, hesitating. The woman was mousy, and that silly bag was bright and seemed to engulf her tiny arm. Finally, she said, "I'm looking for _Arcadia_ by Tom Stoppard?"

"We don't have that," Trent remembered. He only knew this because Daria had requested he check for the play a week before. "We've ordered a few copies, though." Trent turned towards the cash register. "Hey, Paul!" Trent called. His voice wasn't loud, but it reverberated through the store. "When's _Arcadia_ getting in?"

"Wednesday," Paul snapped quietly. Trent almost didn't hear the response, Paul spoke so quietly. Paul, of course, was unconsciously trying to counteract Trent's sudden and jarring call. Paul had to admit, Trent hadn't exactly _yelled_, but the young man's voice was deep and had a low ringing quality to it, and when the kid raised his voice just a little above his usual even drawl, it rang across the space and through people's chests. It was something which people noticed, something which turned heads.

Trent was unconcerned with how loud or low or quiet or distracting his voice was as he turned back to the woman, nodding. "Wednesday. You know, _Arcadia_ is a pretty cool title. It would be a good name for a band."

The mousy woman stared at Trent, her eyes wide after his small scene and his strange declaration. Finally, she said, "Yeah. It would be a good name for a band. I, uh, I guess I'll be back for the book tomorrow then."

"Kay," Trent said, shrugging.

As the woman shuffled from the store, Trent thought_ that wasn't hard_. Trent didn't like meeting new people and talking to them that much. He was naturally kind of shy. He preferred to express himself in music. But that small interaction with a complete stranger hadn't been complicated. It hadn't really felt like he was putting himself out there. In fact, the woman had seemed more nervous and unsure than him.

In a way, that was comforting.

When the next customer came into the store, it was easier for Trent to ask, "Hey. Do you need help?"

"Nah. I'm just browsing the music. You guys have any good rock?"

"No," Trent answered immediately, scowling. He wouldn't have applied for the place if he'd known how pathetic the selection was. "Only classic and big name sell-outs. They don't have _any_ grunge."

The kid scoffed. "Grunge is over anyways-"

"Hey, man. Don't disrespect the art," Trent demanded, unaware of Curley and Lorie standing just a few feet away, horrified at Trent's manner. As far as they were concerned, the customer was _always_ right, and you never told them they were being disrespectful.

But then the young man held up his hands to Trent in surrender. "Don't get me wrong! Grunge had its moments, but the great Grunge bands are gone!"

Trent felt a small pang in his chest when he realized this was somewhat true. After all, he'd wanted to be one of those great Grunge bands for as long as he could remember, and sure, he'd quit the band, but he still had a little shred of hope…

"And why stick in the past when there are new styles created almost every day, you know?" the young man continued. "Like have you seen the Orderlies yet?"

"Orderlies?" Trent asked skeptically.

"Yeah! And yeah, their name is kind of weird, but then so is the band. They're a bunch of young kids, but they put on costumes and makeup so that they look like old guys. But all weird monikers aside, their music is _great_!"

Trent was still skeptical, but he agreed to check them out.

"If they're good," Curley told Trent a while latter, "You can offer to sell some of their CDs in the store."

Trent shrugged. He really didn't care if the Orderlies or Curley got good business. He'd been a little bored in Boston the last few weeks. Janie was always in school or involved with some activity related to school, so she wasn't around often. And other than Janie, Trent didn't really know anyone in Boston. He used to have Jessie, Nick, or Max to go with him if he wanted to spend the night at a bar. And besides, those bars were _familiar_. Trent knew how to have fun with good old friends in familiar old bars. But in Boston, he didn't have those friends there for him anymore, and he didn't really have the self confidence to go explore the bars on his own. Trent only agreed to go watch the Orderlies because he wanted to get Janie out of the apartment with him, and it had been a long time since they'd gone to a concert together.

Of course, their night out was only better when the band turned out to be amazing. Their name and the costumes were strange, but the music was loud and fun, the band had a ton of energy, and that energy transferred to the crowd.

Janie was happy to stick around with Trent after the show to talk to the band. As Trent introduced himself to their keyboardist, Jane struck up a conversation with the drummer, who had taken off his wig but not the long beard he kept strapped behind his ears.

"It looked like a strange twitching animal when the end got caught on your drumstick," Jane was saying.

When Trent spoke to the keyboardist, the two got along easily. Although the guy had been wild on stage, he proved to be mellow and laid-back, like Trent.

"So you liked the show?" the keyboardist – Kyle – asked after the two had been talking for a while.

"Yeah. The music was cool, too," Trent informed him. "You know, I work at Booby Books and Music. We could put a few of your CDs on our counters, make some sales for you."

A large smile spread across Kyle's face, and Trent wondered if he'd smile like that if anyone ever offered to sell _his_ music in a real store.

**Annoying Note: And so the exciting life to Trent truly begins. I hope everyone was in character for this chapter. I haven't actually watched Daria in a while, but I tried to stay true to how they would act and what they would do. Still, keep in mind that this story is about how they all grow and change, so they won't be the same old Lawndale cast forever.**

**Review!  
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